


And The Autumn Moon Is Bright

by wordslinging



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-17
Updated: 2010-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-09 16:07:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordslinging/pseuds/wordslinging
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So...what, am I a werewolf now?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	And The Autumn Moon Is Bright

**Author's Note:**

> This is for [](http://spuzz.livejournal.com/profile)[**spuzz**](http://spuzz.livejournal.com/), who won a fic from me in the [](http://help-haiti.livejournal.com/profile)[**help_haiti**](http://help-haiti.livejournal.com/) auction. It's also more OTP fluff than the warnings may make it sound. Many thanks to [](http://strobelighted.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://strobelighted.livejournal.com/)**strobelighted** for betaing!

"Yeah, basically, we're fucked." Frank straightens up, wiping his hands on a rag, glaring down at the engine. "I mean, maybe an actual mechanic could get it running again, but I'm stumped."

"Great." Mikey lifts the flashlight he'd been shining on the engine and sweeps it around in a circle, so they can get a good look at the creepy fucking woods all around them. With his other hand, he pulls his phone out of his pocket. "And I've got no signal--you?"

Frank wipes the last of the engine grease off his hands, then checks his own phone. "Nothing. And that last sign we passed said, what, five miles to the next town?"

Mikey nods. "Maybe we should just camp out in the car, start walking in the morning?"

"Maybe," Frank agrees. It's a pretty perfect horror movie setup, he thinks, looking around. There's even a full moon. All that's missing is the chainsaw-wielding maniac coming out of the trees to kill them both. "Hey, wait, didn't you say your family's got a house in the woods around here? The one your brother uses as an artist's retreat or whatever?"

"...Yeah," Mikey says, sounding oddly hesitant. "It's off that dirt road we passed a while back, but it's pretty far back in the woods. Might be hard to find in the dark."

"Well, we could at least try," Frank says. "As long as we stick near the road, we can always come back to the car if we don't find the house."

"I'm not sure wandering around the woods at night is really a good idea," Mikey protests, but Frank's mentally weighing 'night spent in the car' against 'house, possibly with a landline, or at least not spending the night in the car', and as far as he's concerned it's worth a little risk.

"Beats hanging around here all night," he says, and starts walking. "C'mon."

 

* * *

Mikey carries the flashlight, sweeping it back and forth on either side of the trees. Frank carries a tire iron from the trunk of the car, just in case there _are_ any maniacs around (not that it would do much good against a chainsaw, but holding it makes him feel better).

"I need to tell you something," Mikey says, after they've been walking for a few minutes.

"S'matter, Mikeyway?" Frank asks, a little teasingly. "Getting scared?"

Frank's a little scared himself, he's got to admit, but he's also having fun. This is going to make an awesome story, assuming, y'know, they don't die.

"Fuck you," Mikey says. "Listen, I didn't tell you before because I didn't want to freak you out, but there are supposed to be wolves in the woods around here."

Frank stops short, looking over at him. The moon's bright, but the trees are thick, and he can't see Mikey's face that well. "Seriously? Wolves, that's the best you can do?"

"Seriously," Mikey says, and he does sound serious. "I mean, I've never seen any, but I've heard howling."

Frank laughs, shaking his head. "That's weak, man. Since when are there wolves in fucking New Jersey?"

"Since bite me, asshole, which one of us has spent more time out here? Really, I think we should go back to the car."

"Okay, let's say I believe you and there's wolves," Frank says, and starts walking again. "You want to be in a car fending off possible wolf attacks, or a house?"

"The house doesn't do us a lot of good if we can't find it," Mikey points out.

"Well, hey, it's your house," Frank counters. "Not my fault you can't remember where it--hey, what's that up ahead?"

* * *

The house looks like what's left of an old farm; a farmhouse with a ramshackle barn a short distance away and a wood fence around both of them. There's a car parked out front, but the house is totally dark.

"Gerard's probably asleep," Mikey says in a low voice as they reach the door. He bends down and flips back the doormat, revealing a spare key underneath.

"Is he gonna mind us just showing up this late?" Frank asks. He's not heading back to the car now if he can help it, but that doesn't mean he wants to piss Mikey's brother off, either.

"He probably won't even wake up, unless we make a lot of noise," Mikey replies as he unlocks the door.

Mikey switches on a lamp by the door as they enter, revealing a pretty ugly room. All the furniture and rugs are straight out of the Seventies, and the furniture looks lumpy and uncomfortable, to boot. Still beats spending all night in the car, though.

There is a landline, but unsurprisingly, none of the mechanics they find in the phone book are answering this late.

"We'll have to try again in the morning," Mikey says, yawning. "I'm beat, man, let's call it a night."

There are only two bedrooms, one of them, judging by the shut door, already occupied by Gerard. Mikey offers to take the lumpy couch, but Frank says he doesn't mind. An hour later, he's regretting that as he wiggles around some more, trying to find a more comfortable position.

And, because he can't sleep, he ends up jonesing for a cigarette. He doesn't know whether or not Gerard would mind him smoking in the house, but Frank's mother raised him to err on the side of caution in situations like this. He sits up and pushes the curtains aside, looking out at the yard. The moon's starting to go down, but it's still bright, and he can't see any sign of anything that looks remotely dangerous.

...Mikey's got to be fucking with him, he figures. Sure, he'd seemed pretty serious, but he's good at deadpan, and Frank's pretty sure there's no way there are wolves out here. And anyway, with the moon out, if there _is_ anything dangerous out there, he should be able to see it coming and get back inside.

He grabs the tire iron from the coffee table for good measure, though. Just in case.

It's September and a little chilly outside, so Frank zips up his jacket--he's already stranded in the woods with a busted car, he doesn't need to get sick on top of it. The trees look really cool in the moonlight, all silver and blue and gray, kind of otherworldly. Frank still hasn't heard any howling, but if there were any, it would fit right in.

He walks over to the fence, hauling himself up onto the broad wooden beam and swinging his legs over. Once he's settled, he lights a cigarette and takes a long drag, looking up at the moon as he exhales.

The first howl startles him so badly that he almost falls backwards off the fence.

The tire iron and Frank's half-smoked cigarette both fall to the ground as Frank grabs the top beam with both hands just in time to keep himself from falling with them. He looks in the direction the noise came from, and stares open-mouthed at what he sees crouched under the trees. It's really big. Its fur is pitch-black and its eyes are pale green. And yeah, he's pretty sure it's a goddamn fucking wolf.

The wolf springs forward, closing the distance between them fast, and Frank flails around, trying to swing his legs over the fence without losing his grip. He fails pretty miserably and falls, hitting the ground hard. The impact knocks the wind out of him and he lies there, gasping for breath, thoughts a panicked chorus of _get up get up get up GET UP_.

He's still on the ground when the wolf reaches him, and if there weren't a fence between them he'd be pretty fucked. As it is, the wolf tries to lunge through the gap between the top and bottom beams, back off with a snarl when it can't fit, and then darts forward again, going low this time, under the bottom beam. Only its head fits, but that's enough for it to sink its teeth into Frank's ankle.

Frank screams, trying to yank his ankle free. He flails around with both hands, looking for the tire iron, a stick, a rock, _anything_ , but there's nothing within reach. And then he thinks fuck it, it's not like the wolf can bite his ankle and his fist at the same time, and he punches the motherfucker as hard as he can on the snout.

He can't tell if he actually hurts it or just startles it, but the wolf lets go, and Frank scrambles backwards, ignoring the pain in his ankle. And then light comes on in the house behind him and he hears Mikey shouting and running toward him, and the wolf turns and runs, melting back into the night.

* * *

Mikey helps him back inside and finds a first aid kit in the bathroom, and Frank lies on the couch with his foot propped up on the arm, kind of dazed and riding a pretty nice painkiller buzz (there's prescription-strength stuff in the medicine cabinet, whatever, Frank's not questioning it).

"I'm sorry," Mikey says as he bandages Frank's ankle. He sounds pretty miserable, and Frank reaches out and pats his arm clumsily.

"Hey, man, you warned me. Not your fault I didn't listen."

Mikey shakes his head. "No, I mean--this is a lot worse than you think. We shouldn't have come here, or I shouldn't have left you alone."

"...What do you mean?" Frank asks, confused. "How is it worse?"

Mikey sits back, sighing, and then pulls the curtains aside. "Moon's almost down," he says, and then looks back at Frank, his expression solemn. "I need to show you something. Can you make it outside?"

"Wait, you want me to go back outside?" Frank protests. "Where there's a _wolf_?"

"You won't believe me if I just tell you," Mikey says. He grabs a blanket that's draped across the back of the couch and throws it over his shoulder, then holds out a hand to Frank. "Come on, I'll help you."

Frank manages to get up with Mikey's arm around his waist and his arm around Mikey's shoulder, and they hobble outside together. Mikey steers them toward the barn, and, once they're inside, leads Frank over to one corner, behind a pile of rusty farm equipment.

"So...what are we doing in the barn?" Frank asks.

"Waiting, right now," Mikey replies. "Be quiet."

That only makes Frank want to ask more questions, of course, but he leans against Mikey and waits.

After a few minutes, the barn door swings open and something comes inside. The only light now is what's spilling over from the house, and Frank can barely see, but he squints, and then jerks backwards, almost falling.

"What the _fuck_ , Mikey?" he hisses.

"Shh!" Mikey whispers back. "He won't hurt us. Just watch."

That's easy enough to obey, because it's not like Frank's going to take his eyes off the wolf anyway. It pads into the middle of the barn, moving slowly, head lowered. It stands there for a few moments, panting heavily, and Frank holds his breath, waiting for the wolf's head to turn in their direction.

When the wolf suddenly throws its head back and howls, Frank jumps. But it still doesn't move toward him and Mikey. Instead, it crouches down on the ground and...sort of writhes. Frank can't really make out what's happening, but the wolf is whimpering now, tiny, pained noises that make it impossible not to feel sympathy, and there are wet sounds and cracking sounds and the wolf's whole body seems to be _shifting_ somehow--

\--And then it's not a wolf at all anymore, it's a naked man lying in a heap on the ground, and Mikey lets go of Frank and runs toward him.

Frank hobbles out from behind the pile of farm equipment and leans against a support beam, watching. Mikey kneels down next to the naked guy, draping the blanket around him. The guy sits up suddenly, a wild look on his face, and clutches at Mikey's arms.

"Mikey," he says in a panicked voice, "Mikey, I think I might have bitten someone last night, was there anyone besides you--"

"Uh," Mikey says, and jerks his chin towards Frank. The guy turns, and stares at Frank with wide hazel-green eyes that go even wider when he sees the bandage on Frank's leg.

"...Fuck," he says, and then faints.

* * *

Frank has to limp back in on his own, because Mikey has his hands full with Gerard--because apparently that's Gerard, apparently Mikey's brother is a _goddamn fucking werewolf_ and Frank can't even blame Mikey for not telling him because if he hadn't just seen Gerard transform, there's no way he'd believe it--who's barely conscious and also still pretty naked. Mikey helps Gerard into his room, stays there a few minutes, and then comes back out to where Frank's sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the wall.

"Like I said," Mikey says, sounding tired. "I'm really, really sorry."

Frank blinks, rousing himself a little. "So...what, am I a werewolf now?"

Mikey walks over and drops onto the couch next to him, shrugging. "Can't say right now. It's an infection, basically, so if I got the wound cleaned out in time, you might be okay, but if I didn't..." he trails off, then finishes, "We won't know for sure until the next full moon."

"Great," Frank says, looking down. After a moment, he asks, "How long has Gerard been one?"

"Two years," Mikey tells him. "He spent his first couple of moons in the basement at home, but then he started coming out here, so he could run around and stuff. We knew it was riskier, but it was so hard locking him up all the time."

Frank thinks about being locked in a basement versus being able to run free in the woods, and yeah, he can sympathize. He just hopes he doesn't end up having to deal with either one.

* * *

Frank falls asleep for a few hours, and wakes up to a note from Mikey, saying that he called a mechanic and went to meet him by the car, and there's coffee and food in the kitchen. Frank gets up--his ankle hurts like a bitch, but if he doesn't put too much weight on it, he can walk--and hobbles into the bathroom for more painkillers first, then to the kitchen for coffee.

While he's out in the hall, he notices Gerard's door is ajar, and instead of going back to the living room, Frank walks up to stand in the doorway, glancing in. Gerard's in bed, just an outline in the dim light, but as Frank stands there he stirs and sits up, head turning in Frank's direction.

"Uh," Frank says. "Hey. Do you, uh, want anything? Coffee, food, Vicodin?"

"Vicodin, then coffee," Gerard answers in a low, raspy voice. "No food. Probably couldn't keep anything down."

"Nice to know I might have that to look forward to," Frank says without thinking, and sees Gerard flinch. "Uh. Be right back?"

When he gets back, pills in one hand, a mug of coffee in the other, Gerard's sitting up, propped against the headboard, and he's switched a lamp on.

"I'm sorry," Gerard says as soon as Frank comes back. "I couldn't recognize your scent, last night, so I thought you were an intruder, and...I'm really, really sorry."

There's a ratty, comfortable-looking armchair a few feet from the bed. Frank moves into the room, sets the pills and coffee down on the nightstand, and then sinks down into the chair.

"You're not in control of yourself, when you transform?" he asks.

"Kind of," Gerard says, pausing to swallow the Vicodin and wash it down with coffee. "I can still think like myself, but it's a lot harder to control my impulses."

Frank looks down, picking at a loose thread in his jeans for a moment, and then blurts out, "If I do turn into a werewolf, can I come here for the full moons?"

Gerard pauses, then sets his coffee down on the nightstand and leans forward a little. "Frank--it's Frank, right?" he asks, and Frank nods. "If I turned you, then I'm responsible for you. And I'm _especially_ responsible for you on your first full moon. I know mine would've been a lot easier if I'd had someone there to help me through it."

"You didn't?" Frank asks. "What about the werewolf that turned you?"

Gerard shrugs. "Shot by a park ranger the same night it bit me. I didn't even know I'd been turned until the first time I transformed."

"That must have sucked," Frank says.

Gerard nods. "It really, really did. Look--we don't know each other, and you'd be within your rights to hate me for biting you, and if you told me to fuck off, I would. But no one should have to go through this alone, so if you want my help, you've got it."

"I don't," Frank says. "Want to go through it alone." He's still sort of working through the rest, but he's sure of that much.

Gerard nods again. "Then you won't," he says gently.

* * *

A little while later, Mikey comes back with the car. Gerard stays behind, needing more time to recover, but Frank and Mikey drive back into town. At his mom's insistence, Frank goes to get his ankle checked out by a doctor--Mikey's cleaning and bandaging job was pretty thorough, it turns out, but the doctor gives him some crutches to use while it heals, which is nice. Frank goes back to work the next day, and makes up as many bullshit stories as he can about fighting wild animals off with his bare hands.

He doesn't feel any different, though he doesn't have any idea if being a werewolf while it's not a full moon _would_ feel any different. Still, he lets himself hope--maybe he didn't get infected. Maybe nothing's going to happen.

Maybe.

* * *

Frank's ankle heals up, and things pretty much go back to normal. Sometimes he thinks about what happened in the woods, or about the upcoming full moon, but there's not much he can do but wait.

He goes to a party at Mikey's house two weeks later and Gerard is there, keeping to himself in one corner. Frank notices him while he's talking to Ray--they've been talking about maybe trying to start a band, if they can ever find a good drummer and time to get together and practice--and after a while, Frank excuses himself and walks over to where Gerard's sitting.

"Hey," he says, and Gerard glances over, his eyebrows going up a little when he recognizes Frank.

"Hey," he replies. "How've you been?"

Frank shrugs. "Okay. Ankle's better." He sticks the ankle in question out and wiggles it around a little, so Gerard can see.

"I'm glad," Gerard says, smiling. It's a nice smile. He's pretty cute, really--Frank noticed before, but didn't really _notice_ , with everything else going on. Gerard gestures to to an empty chair close to where he's sitting. "Want to sit for a while?"

"Sure," Frank says, and does so. They sit in silence for a few seconds, and Frank tries to think of some topic of conversation that doesn't involve being or maybe being a werewolf.

"So, Mikey says you're an artist?" he asks eventually.

Gerard nods. "Yeah. Well, kind of. I'm just taking whatever freelance work I can get right now, but I'd like to get into comics eventually, if I can."

"Cool," Frank says. "How's it working out, so far?"

Gerard spreads his hands. "I'm twenty-seven and I live in my parents' basement, when I'm not hiding out in the woods."

"That's not so bad," Frank says. "I live with my parents, too."

"Yeah, but Mikey says you just graduated last spring, so you're what, twenty-two?" Frank nods, and Gerard smiles again. "See, you've got plenty of time left before you're a loser."

"I don't think you're a loser," Frank says. "I mean, at least you know what you want. I majored in English because I didn't know what I wanted to do, and I still don't."

Gerard waves a hand dismissively. "Yeah, but you can get away with not knowing what you want at twenty-two."

"I guess so," Frank agrees.

"So," Gerard begins after a moment, "Mikey tell you anything else about me?"

"That he thinks we'd get along and he's going to make you come out with us sometime," Frank says. "I'm surprised we didn't meet sooner, really."

"Yeah," Gerard agrees. "I'm sort of a lone wolf, I guess."

Frank snorts. "Oh man, that was bad."

Gerard's smile is impish. "Yeah, it was, wasn't it?"

Later on, when the party's breaking up, Gerard finds Frank and takes him aside.

"I'll be in town until the next full moon," he says. "If you want to talk about anything. Or just see if Mikey was right, y'know, about us getting along."

"Thanks," Frank says, and smiles at him. "See you around, I guess."

* * *

They see each other a few more times after that, but they don't get around to talking about werewolf stuff. Frank knows they probably should, at some point, but it's a lot easier to push that to the back of his mind as well as he can, and focus on getting to know Gerard.

At least, it's easy to push the werewolf stuff to the back of his mind until the morning he wakes up with a really, _really_ intense craving for meat.

He had to deal with that a lot when he first went vegetarian, but it hasn't happened in years. Weird, but he just does what he used to do back then--reminds himself of all the reasons for going veggie, and pictures adorable animals being ruthlessly slaughtered.

Only this time, instead of making him feel too guilty to even consider meat consumption, picturing adorable animals being ruthlessly slaughtered just makes him hungrier.

...That's probably not good.

He stumbles out of bed and over to his computer, and a quick search confirms that it's only a couple of days until the next full moon.

"...Fuck," Frank mutters. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck _fuck_."

He calls Mikey.

"...Fuck," Mikey says when Frank fills him in.

"Yep," Frank says. "So, uh...on a scale of 'might not mean anything' to 'impending furriness', how screwed am I, exactly?"

"Uh," Mikey says. "I'm not really sure? Gerard would know better than I would, want to come over after work and you guys can talk about it?"

"Guess I'd better," Frank says.

* * *

He heads to the Way's house as soon as he gets off work.

"So, I almost tackled a guy at work for his cheeseburger today," he says when he gets there. "Is that gonna be a thing?"

"Could be," Gerard says apologetically. "I'm not vegetarian, so it's never really been a big deal for me."

Frank drops down on the couch next to him, sighing. "Okay, so--does this mean I'm a werewolf or what?"

Gerard bites his lower lip. "I've heard about people who had close calls and didn't get turned, but did have some side effects--meat cravings, restlessness on full moons, that sort of thing, but no transformation. But...really, what happened with us wasn't exactly a close call."

"And even if you're not one, it's probably safer if we assume you are," Mikey points out. "Until the moon's over and we know for sure, at least."

"Right." Frank sinks back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "Great."

"Remember what I told you," Gerard says. "We'll get through this together."

* * *

Getting a few days off work isn't a problem, and as far as Frank's mom knows he and Mikey are going to Philadelphia to lend moral support to a friend's band. In actuality, Mikey can't get off work, so it's just going to be Gerard and Frank at the house in the woods, on the days before and after the full moon as well as for the moon itself.

"I usually need at least one whole day to recover," Gerard explains while they're working out the plan. "And it's best to not be around too many people the day before."

"And if I'm really lucky and it turns out I'm not a werewolf?" Frank asks.

"Stay in the house when I transform," Gerard tells him, and shrugs. "I know your scent now, so you should be fine no matter what."

"...Okay," Frank says, trying to ignore the fact that it's really weird (and kind of weirdly hot) to have Gerard casually mention that he knows Frank's scent.

Frank wakes up on the day before the full moon with this weird itchiness all over his body, like an allergic reaction. He feels twitchy and restless, and he can tell Gerard was right, trying to go to work and act normally today would have been a bad idea.

He meets up with Gerard at the Ways' house, and they get some groceries before heading out in Gerard's beat-up old car. They get to the old farmhouse in the early afternoon, and then there's not really much to do but kill time.

Gerard opens up the big wooden cabinet in the living room, revealing a TV. "There's no cable or internet out here, but I've got a lot of movies," he says. "We could watch something, if you want."

The movies are all video tapes, arranged on a shelf above the TV. Frank browses the titles for a moment, then looks over at Gerard and shrugs.

"Batman?" he suggests.

Gerard smiles and pulls it off the shelf. "Batman it is."

They make popcorn and sit on the couch together, and Frank tries to keep himself from fidgeting too much. The itchiness and restlessness has only gotten worse as the day's gone on.

Eventually, Gerard looks over at him, and then holds out one arm. "C'mere."

Frank scoots closer with a questioning look, and Gerard reaches around to cup the back of his head, running his fingers through Frank's hair and scratching Frank's scalp with his fingernails.

Frank almost can't believe how good it feels. It doesn't stop the itch, but it makes it more bearable, gives him something else to focus on. He lets his head loll to the side, cheek hitting Gerard's shoulder.

"Oh, wow," he mutters. "That's...that's kind of awesome. And weird. And awesome."

"I know, right?" Gerard lets his hand trail down to Frank's neck, thumb stroking his skin gently.

Frank presses into the touch, leaning heavily against Gerard, and then looks up at him. "So how are you not going crazy like I am?"

"It just doesn't bug me as much anymore," Gerard says. "You get used to it."

They stay like that until the movie ends, and after Gerard gets up to put on another one and sits back down, Frank scoots back in and leans against him again. It's kind of weird, given that they still don't really know each other that well, but if Frank starts dwelling on the weirdness he'll never stop, so he's just kind of going with it. He barely pays any attention to the second movie, half-dozing against Gerard's side, and he's almost completely asleep when Gerard shakes him gently and asks if he wants dinner.

After they eat, Frank feels a lot more alert, and the restlessness that deserted him for a while comes back.

"You might feel better if you get out in the moonlight for a while," Gerard tells him. "It won't be the same as being out there as a wolf, but we could go for a walk."

"Is it safe?" Frank asks. Being outside sounds really, really good, but he's trying to cut back on doing stupid shit that anyone who's ever seen a horror movie should know better than.

"Oh, yeah," Gerard assures him. "I'm usually the only wolf around here, and otherwise it's just rabbits and raccoons and shit."

Frank hesitates another moment, then shrugs. "Let's go, then."

* * *

The weather's gotten colder since the last time Frank was out here, and they both brought heavy coats. The moon's just shy of full, and walking around under it does make Frank feel better, like the moon's speaking to him somehow, soothing him. He glances over at Gerard, who's walking with his face turned upward, basking in the silvery light.

"You know my birthday's coming up soon," Frank comments. "Next week."

Gerard looks over at him. "Yeah, Mikey said. Halloween, right? That's awesome."

"Yeah," Frank says, smiling a little. "Glad the full moon wasn't then--I mean, it'd be kind of appropriate, but I think I'd like to spend my birthday human."

"Understandable," Gerard agrees.

Frank looks over at him, and then nudges Gerard with his elbow. "You gonna be in town then?"

Gerard smiles at him. "No reason I can't be."

* * *

They stay out late, but Frank still wakes up early in the morning. He feels even worse than the day before; his skin on fire. He stumbles out to the kitchen and finds Gerard already there, glaring at the coffee maker while it percolates.

Frank sits down and drops his head onto his folded arms, resting against the table. He lets out a frustrated groan, not even bothering with words.

"Yeah, I know," Gerard mutters, and a moment later Frank feels a hand on his back, rubbing gently between his shoulder blades. It helps a little, but not as much as yesterday. "Hang in there. We've just got to make it to tonight."

Once there's coffee, Frank feels a little more human, and they sit at the kitchen table for a while, talking.

"The first change is really rough," Gerard tells him. "I mean, it's still not exactly easy for me, but it's never been as bad as the first time. It's...I'm not gonna sugarcoat it, it pretty much feels like you're dying. But right when it seems like you can't take it anymore, the pain stops, and then..."

"What's it like?" Frank asks. "Being a wolf?"

"It's amazing," Gerard says softly. "I don't even know how to describe it, but it's like...you can just run, and howl, and let go of everything. Just _be_. I'd say everyone ought to try it once, if it worked like that."

Frank nods, looking down at his coffee. "Well. Good to know I've got something to look forward to, at least."

They don't do much for the next few hours but shuffle around being miserable, and after lunch Gerard suggests they both try to nap. After all, they're not going to get any sleep whatsoever that night.

Frank goes to the room he's staying in and lies down, but all he does there is toss and turn for almost an hour. Eventually he gives up, stands up, and crosses the hall to Gerard's room. Like last time, the door's ajar, and as he pushes it open, he sees Gerard stir on the bed.

"Frank?" Gerard lifts up a little, propping himself on one elbow, and blinks at Frank sleepily.

"Can't sleep," Frank says, and hopes Gerard will be able to figure out the rest, because now that he's here, he doesn't know how to say it.

Gerard doesn't look surprised, and he scoots over a little, making more room on the bed. "Come on, then."

Frank crosses the room and lies down next to him. He stretches out on his back at first, but when Gerard pushes at his shoulder Frank rolls to the side and lets Gerard fit himself against the curve of his back, arms around Frank's waist.

"Pack mentality," he murmurs, close to Frank's ear. "We, uh, might end up being pretty clingy, at least around full moons."

"Hey, as long as I get to be the little spoon, I don't mind," Frank says lightly. It seems like this should be awkward, but he's never been one to turn down cuddling, and while Gerard calling the two of them a pack adds a whole new layer of fun weirdness to all of this, the weirdness doesn't mean it doesn't feel good to have Gerard curled around him. He puts his hand over Gerard's, squeezing a little. "Must've sucked for you, not having anyone to be a pack with after you got bit."

"Mm." Gerard tilts his head a little, his nose tickling the back of Frank's neck. "Mikey lets me hang off of him a lot. But it's not really the same."

Frank looks down at their hands, at the way his fingers fit into the space between Gerard's knuckles, and once again he thinks that if he has to go through all of this, he's glad not to be doing it alone.

"Get some sleep," Gerard tells him softly. "You're gonna need it."

* * *

Frank wakes up with Gerard still pressed against him and late afternoon light slanting in through the window. He just lies there for a few moments, warm and comfortable, until he feels Gerard stir behind him.

"Frank?" Gerard mumbles sleepily. "You awake?"

"Yeah," Frank replies, and rolls over to face Gerard. Gerard lifts his arm to let Frank turn over, and then drapes it around him again, his hand settling on the small of Frank's back.

"Few more hours until moonrise," Gerard says, and Frank can feel Gerard's breath against his face. Their noses are almost touching. "We can make dinner, if you want--I usually just catch a rabbit or something, but I guess that doesn't work so well for you."

Frank makes a face. "Uh, yeah, food that doesn't have to be caught, please."

Gerard gives an exaggerated sigh. "You're so high-maintenance."

Frank sticks his tongue out, and Gerard moves his hand around and tickles Frank's side, which makes him yelp and squirm. Gerard laughs at him, and then Frank grabs Gerard's hand between both of his and their eyes meet as he looks up, and Gerard stops laughing abruptly. They stay like that for a moment, hands tangled, faces close together, and Frank's trying to make his mind up about whether or not to lean in when Gerard clears his throat and pulls back a little.

"So, uh...dinner?" he suggests.

Frank draws back as well, letting go of his hand. "Yeah."

Between the two of them, they pull together a pretty good vegetarian lasagna. It's sort of relaxing, cooking together--it helps take Frank's mind off the itch under his skin, and for a little while it feels like they could actually be friends on vacation together, instead of two werewolves waiting for a full moon to rise.

They do the dishes as the sun goes down, standing shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the tiny sink, Frank washing, Gerard drying.

"So...what now?" Frank asks.

"When we're done with this, we'll go out to the barn," Gerard says. "It's a good place to transform, you don't have to worry about breaking anything, but you're not out in the open. We should bring some blankets, too, it's gonna be freezing later." He finishes drying the last plate, stacks it with the rest, and then shrugs. "And then we wait."

* * *

It's already pretty cold when they head outside, and dark with the moon not out yet.

"You should probably take your clothes off," Gerard says.

Frank looks over at him. "...Uh. Run that by me again?"

Gerard's already unbuttoning his shirt. "Take off your clothes. Unless you want 'em getting ripped to shreds in a few minutes."

"Okay, point," Frank says, and shrugs out of his hoodie. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Gerard pull off his undershirt and unbutton his jeans. Frank feels his face warm up a little, and he turns his back firmly on Gerard as he takes off his t-shirt and reaches for his own fly.

For a minute or two he stands there, naked and shivering. Nothing happens. And, as nothing keeps happening, there's a glimmer of hope that maybe, _maybe_ he just had a close call after all, and he'll have to learn to live with meat cravings and feeling like he wants to crawl out of his skin once a month, but that's okay, because he won't actually turn into a wolf.

Maybe.

And then the itch sweeps over his skin like fire, and he doubles over, crying out. There's not even time to catch his breath before it's happening. It's like the time he broke his arm falling out of a tree as a kid, only ten times worse and all over his body, one sharp stab of pain after another as his bones rearrange themselves in ways they aren't meant to go. Very briefly, he registers that fur's started sprouting from his skin, and then he sort of blacks out, or at least stops trying to pay any attention to what's happening.

And then it's over, the pain fading remarkably fast, and Frank stands on his new feet--all four of them--and sniffs the air with his new nose, and pads slowly out of the barn and looks around with his new eyes.

In some ways, things are more complicated--the whole world is full of smells and sounds Frank's never been aware of before, layered on top of each other, more intricate and complex than he ever imagined things could be.

In other ways, the whole world is suddenly incredibly simple. He's outside and that's good, and might be even better if he were running. He's different than he usually is, but that's okay, now that the change is over. Beside him is a shaggy black wolf who smells like Gerard, and he's pack and that's _very_ good. He's also alpha, which...good and bad don't really factor into that, it's just the way things are.

Frank moves toward the black wolf, sniffing him curiously. He smells different than Gerard-as-a-human, but it's still definitely him. He holds still to let Frank sniff him, and then moves a little closer, bumping the side of Frank's muzzle with his nose. Frank nudges him back, a little too hard, maybe, because Gerard leans in and gives his ear a light nip.

Frank bounds away, turning to explore some of the other smells and sounds all around. There's movement in the darkness and tall grass, small, easily frightened things that he thinks might be fun to chase (and maybe catch and eat, part of him suggests, but another part vetoes that idea immediately). He hears something nearby, sniffs--rabbit, he realizes, with no real idea how he can tell that all of a sudden--and darts toward it, swift and light on his feet--no, paws. The rabbit freezes and then bolts, and Frank lets out a gleeful yip as he runs after it. Behind him, Gerard gives a short bark that almost sounds like laughter.

Frank doesn't get very far before he reaches the fence. The rabbit darts under it easily, but Frank can only fit through up to his shoulders, and he backs off, growling at the stupid fence for spoiling his fun.

A bark attracts his attention, and he looks over to see Gerard standing by the gate. It's closed, but not latched, and when Gerard rears up and pushes at it with his front paws, it swings open. Frank barks happily--of course Gerard would know to do that, because he's been doing this longer and he's smart and he's Frank's alpha--and races through the open gate, looking for more things to chase.

He runs around after small woodland creatures for a while, until he manages to catch a rabbit. Then it suddenly gets less fun, because he has it pinned down and he can smell how afraid it is and part of him says _well, go on, eat it_ but another part says _whoa, whoa, wait, vegetarian, remember?_ , and he doesn't care about that right now but he's still in control enough to know he _will_ care later. It's confusing and a little upsetting, and he lets the rabbit go and watches it scamper away into the dark.

Gerard comes up and give him another nudge, and Frank welcomes the distraction. He turns and springs toward Gerard playfully, and Gerard ducks away and bats at Frank's head with one paw. Frank barks at him and does it again, and Gerard bats him away harder this time, with a low growl.

Frank knows it's a warning, but he wants to test it, push just a little further and see what happens. Gerard may be alpha, but Frank's just as much of a wolf as he is, after all. He backs off a little, crouches low, and then pounces.

Gerard meets his leap and knocks him down, and they wrestle, snarling and rolling around on the ground. It doesn't last too long--Gerard's bigger and stronger, as well as more used to being a wolf. He pins Frank, and Frank twists around, trying to get loose, and Gerard leans in and clamps the back of Frank's neck in his jaws. He holds him firmly but carefully, his teeth not breaking the skin but his grip too tight for Frank to get away.

Frank wriggles around a little more, but he can't get away. Gerard gives another warning growl, and Frank knows he's beaten. He lets out his breath in a huff and goes limp.

Gerard lets go, but stays on top of him. He nuzzles Frank gently, in the same spot where he was holding him before, and Frank knows that means it's okay, that Gerard doesn't mind him testing the limits as long as he knows when to stop.

After another moment, Gerard backs off, retreating a few feet away. Frank springs back to his feet, and Gerard barks at him before running a short distance, then stopping again and turning to look back at Frank. Frank gets the message--let's see if you can keep up--and runs after Gerard happily.

They spend the rest of the night like that, racing each other through the woods. Eventually, Gerard leads Frank back toward the barn. There's a little time left before the moon goes down, but they're both tired, and when they get back to the barn, they collapse in a heap together.

After a little while, Gerard raises his head, and then stands up. At first, Frank can't tell what he's reacting to, but then he feels it. It's not like before, when the change was building up inside him--this time it's a sense of winding down, of something ending. When the pain hits, it _is_ the same as before, and he huddles on the ground and waits for it to be over. As least he has more of an idea of what he's in for, this time, although knowing that only helps so much when he's in so much pain he can't think straight.

And then it's over, and he's naked and sore and shivering and he'd really like to go inside or at least find his clothes but it might be a little while longer before he can move at all.

He feels hands on his arms, twists around to see Gerard, and presses close to him. Gerard brings both arms up and around him, and Frank clings to Gerard and huddles against him gratefully, resting his forehead against Gerard's shoulder for a moment.

Together, they stagger to their feet and make their way over to the blankets they brought out. Instead of giving one to Frank and keeping the other for himself, Gerard wraps both blankets around both of them and pulls Frank back into his arms.

"We should get inside," he says. "Come back for our clothes when it's light out."

"You're the boss," Frank mutters. He's content to follow Gerard's lead, because hugging and blankets were a good idea and going inside seems like an even better one.

They get inside, and Gerard steers them into Frank's room first. They both sink down to sit on the edge of the bed, and Gerard starts trying to untangle their blankets and leave Frank with one, but Frank catches hold of his wrist.

"Stay," he says softly.

Gerard pulls back, looking down at him. "You sure?"

Frank nods, and Gerard rolls them back up in the blankets together, guiding Frank to lie down. Frank snuggles against him, one arm slung across Gerard's waist and his head on Gerard's shoulder, and closes his eyes.

* * *

Frank wakes up a couple of hours later to pale light seeping in through the curtains. The good news is that he's really warm, still wrapped up in blankets; the bad news is that he's sore in places he didn't even know he _could_ be sore.

"Hey."

Frank looks up to see Gerard standing in the doorway, wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and carrying a glass of water in one hand.

"How you feeling?" he asks.

"Like I fell off a building," Frank replies. "Twice."

"Sounds about right." Gerard crosses the room, holding out his other hand. He's got something cupped in it, and when Frank holds out his hand, Gerard drops two pills into it. "Those'll help."

Frank scoots over so Gerard can sit on the edge of the bed, then downs the painkillers gratefully. He's very aware of the fact that he's still naked under the blankets. Last night after changing back, modesty had been the last thing on his mind, and now it simultaneously seems like this should be awkward, and like the time for awkwardness is way, way past.

"I called Mikey, let him know how things went last night." Gerard tells him. "He said I better be extra nice to you all day."

"Mikey gives good advice," Frank says.

Gerard nods, and touches his shoulder gently. "You're gonna want to take it easy today. Go back to sleep for a while, if you want."

"Not gonna argue with that," Frank says, setting the water glass down on the nightstand. He pauses, considering the still-naked thing, and then decides, fuck it. "What about you, you coming back to bed with me?"

"Uh," Gerard says, looking uncertain. "If you want?"

Frank unwraps himself from his blanket cocoon a little so Gerard can get back in. "Dude, you're like a hot water bottle than can hug me back. Get in here."

* * *

Between the Vicodin and the sleep, Frank feels a lot better the next time he wakes up. He smells smoke and opens his eyes--Gerard's propped up against the headboard with a cigarette in one hand and his other arm slung around Frank's shoulders. When Frank stirs, Gerard looks down.

"Hey," he says. "I was gonna go make some coffee soon, you want some?"

"Sure," Frank says.

Gerard extracts himself and walks off toward the kitchen, and a few minutes later the smell of coffee brewing finally convinces Frank to haul himself out of bed and find a pair of sweatpants to put on.

He heads out to the kitchen and finds Gerard leaning against the counter, still only wearing pajama pants. The coffee finishes brewing, and Gerard pulls two mugs out of a cabinet and fills them. Frank comes up beside him and takes one.

They stand close together, drinking coffee and not talking. Frank feels like he should say something--about what they went through together last night, about how he's never gotten this close to anyone this fast and how they've gone from two guys who didn't know each very well to...whatever this is, but what do you even say about something like that?

"So, feeling better?" Gerard asks eventually.

"Yeah," Frank says. "A lot better, actually." He leans against the counter, cradling his mug in both hands. "So. We go home, pretend to be normal, and then we do all this again in a month?"

"Pretty much," Gerard says. "It sucks, I know."

Frank shrugs. "I'll live. I mean, you said the first change is the worst, right? And I made it through that."

Gerard smiles at him. "Yeah. Yeah, you did."

They lapse back into silence as they finish their coffee. Frank puts his mug in the sink, and Gerard leans across him to do the same, bringing them even closer together. Frank turns so that they're facing each other, tilting his head up a little, and their eyes meet.

"Frank--" Gerard begins.

Frank leans up and kisses him, before either one of them has a chance to think about it too much. Gerard's lips part against Frank's and his hands settle on Frank's shoulders, but he doesn't move aside from that, like he's waiting for something. Waiting to see if Frank's going to have second thoughts about this, maybe. Frank's pretty sure he's not going to, and he tries to convey that to Gerard, putting his hands on Gerard's chest and pressing closer.

After a second or two, Gerard seems reassured. He presses back into the kiss, and his hands tighten on Frank's shoulders. Frank lets him take control, opening his mouth under Gerard's and running his hands up into Gerard's hair. A moment later, he finds himself spun around and pinned against the counter. He brings one leg up to brace his foot against the cabinets, steadying himself, and lets Gerard press him back against the tile as the kiss deepens. Now that Gerard's gotten over his initial hesitance, he's not holding back--there's a fierce, possessive edge to the kiss, and his grip on Frank's shoulders is almost hard enough to bruise.

Gerard backs off suddenly, leaving Frank gasping and leaning against the counter. He searches Frank's face for a moment, and whatever he sees there apparently satisfies him, because he moves back in and puts his hands on Frank's waist.

"Bed?" he suggests, and Frank nods, stretching up to kiss him briefly.

"Works for me," he replies, and slips out from between Gerard and the counter to hurry back down the hallway, Gerard close behind.

Frank reaches his room first, and Gerard comes up behind him as he stands in the doorway, his arms going around Frank's waist as he pulls Frank back against his chest and noses at his hair. Frank shivers and leans back against him, letting Gerard walk him awkwardly toward the bed.

When they get there, Gerard pushes Frank onto the bed with sudden forcefulness. Frank braces himself on his elbows as Gerard climbs up behind him, straddling Frank's waist and pressing him down with a hand between his shoulder blades. Frank pushes up a little, just to see what Gerard will do, and finds himself shoved down again roughly. Gerard runs a hand up into Frank's hair, twining his fingers through it almost gently for a moment before tugging sharply. Frank responds, tilting his head to the side and arcing it back, exposing his throat.

Gerard leans down and nuzzles at Frank's neck for a moment, then opens his mouth, teeth digging in--not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to bruise. Frank lets out a little moan and tilts his head back a little further, giving Gerard better access. Gerard lets go after a moment and nuzzles him again, tongue darting out to soothe the marks he's left.

"Mine," he growls, low and rough against Frank's skin, and Frank gasps out "Yes," even though it wasn't a question.

Gerard slips one arm down and around Frank's chest, holding him close, and tilts his head down to press his forehead against Frank's shoulder. "Mine," he says again, softer, and his voice shakes a little, like he's overwhelmed.

His palm is right over Frank's heart and Frank can feel Gerard's heartbeat thudding against his back, and on one hand it's fucking incredible, just being pressed up against him like this, but on the other hand Frank's elbows are starting to shake and Gerard's cock is pressing against his ass, and he's starting to think it might be good to move things along a little.

"Gerard," he says, his own voice rough with desire. "Please--"

Gerard pulls back a little, stroking the skin of Frank's hip. "Shit," he says after a brief pause. "I don't think I have any--"

"There's condoms and lube in my backpack," Frank says in a rush, and then instantly feels his face heat up. "I mean, I didn't pack them for the trip or anything, I just like to carry some in there. Uh, not like I go around hooking up with people all the time--"

Gerard squeezes Frank's hip and kisses the back of his neck. "I get it. Be prepared, right?"

Frank buries his burning face in a pillow for a moment and gives a muffled "right", and Gerard kisses his neck again and then levers himself up and off the bed. Frank takes the opportunity to kick his sweats off while Gerard rifles through the stuff on the floor, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Gerard lose the pajama pants before he settles behind Frank on the bed again.

"Up," Gerard demands, and Frank scrambles onto his knees, shifting his legs further apart as Gerard slides a hand up the back of his thigh.

Frank tenses a little when Gerard's fingers press against him, cool and slick, and he bites his lip and tries to relax. Gerard tries to go slow, but he's just a little bit rough with impatience, and it's not long before Frank's pushing back against his fingers and making little desperate sounds in the back of his throat.

"You like that?" Gerard growls in his ear, twisting his fingers inside Frank. "Is this what you want, Frank?"

Frank whines and rocks back against him. "Yes," he pants. "God, _yes_."

Gerard pulls his fingers back, and Frank hears foil crinkling and tearing.

"Turn around," Gerard says in a low voice. Frank obeys instantly, and Gerard puts his hands on Frank's knees, pushing them apart slowly. He moves up between Frank's legs and leans in to stroke his hair back with one hand, his fingers shaking a little with how tense he is.

"Is this okay?" he asks softly. "I want to see you."

Frank nods at once, then after actually thinking about it for a second, reaches back to grab a pillow and wedge it under his hips, propping himself up a little.

"I'm good," he says, and Gerard nods and bends down to kiss him.

Gerard lets the kiss linger for a long moment, his tongue teasing Frank's mouth open and his hand in Frank's hair, before he draws back. He puts his hands on Frank's knees again, takes a moment to steady himself, and then slides forward, pushing into Frank slowly but firmly. Frank bites his lip and hooks his ankle around Gerard's back, trying to relax--Gerard's pretty big, and it's been a while since Frank's done this.

Gerard slides all the way in and then pauses, his hands moving restlessly on Frank's thighs. "Okay?" he asks, and when Frank nods, he pulls back and rocks forward again, setting a quick pace. Frank tightens his leg around Gerard and reaches up, running his hands over Gerard's arms and shoulders, and Gerard bends over him, hair hanging in his face as he braces himself with a hand on either side of Frank's head.

"You're so--" he starts, and then breaks off in a hitched breath as he thrusts into Frank again. "Fuck, _Frank_ \--"

Frank pulls him down into a kiss, frantic and messy, and wedges one hand between their bodies to wrap a hand around his cock. Gerard lifts up a little, shifting his weight onto one elbow so he can reach down and cover Frank's fingers with his own. Their hands on Frank's cock match the rhythm of Gerard's cock inside him, and Frank moans into Gerard's mouth. He can feel the tension building through his entire body, and he doesn't want it to be over this fast, but he doesn't want to slow down enough to make it last longer.

He makes a disappointed noise when Gerard breaks the kiss and pulls back, and opens his eyes to see Gerard looking down at him intently.

"I want to watch you come," Gerard whispers, and rubs his thumb over the head of Frank's cock, making him cry out. "Come on, Frankie, do it."

As close as Frank is already, the commanding note in Gerard's voice is all it takes to send him over the edge. One more stroke from both their hands on his cock, and he comes hard, shaking. As his cock goes soft, Gerard lets go and grips Frank's hip, hitching him closer. He thrusts into Frank a few more times, and then he's coming, too, letting out a moan as his whole body shudders.

For a few seconds, there's no sound in the room but heavy breathing. Gerard pulls out and tosses the condom into the small trashcan by the nightstand, and Frank swipes his fingers through the drying come on his stomach and decides he doesn't care enough to do more than wipe himself off with the corner of a sheet.

Gerard lowers himself back down onto the bed and Frank curls into his arms when he holds them out, and they kiss lazily for a few minutes, until Gerard reaches across Frank and fumbles for the cigarettes he left on the nightstand. He hands one to Frank, and Frank takes it and squirms around to get comfortable, and ends up lying next to Gerard with his head tucked under Gerard's chin and Gerard's arm around his shoulders.

"So, uh," Frank says eventually. "That whole 'mine' thing back there...?" He trails off, not quite knowing what he wants to ask. It had felt easy enough to go with it in the moment--more than easy, _right_ \--but if this is going to be something that lasts more than three days, that's not just about spending the moons together (and Frank hopes it is), he figures he should make sure they're on the same page.

"Too much, too soon?" Gerard asks, a little apprehensively.

"No--I mean, it is a little much, I guess, but you might've noticed I was kind of into it." Frank takes a drag on his cigarette, then asks, "Is it an alpha thing?"

"Could be," Gerard says. "You're the only person I've ever turned and the only other werewolf I've ever slept with, so I don't have a lot to go on, but I do kind of feel like..."

"Like I'm yours now?" Frank finishes for him.

Gerard takes a moment to answer, leaning across Frank again to tap his cigarette over the ashtray on the nightstand. "Like I'm responsible for you now. Like I said after I turned you, only even more so now. And, okay, like I don't really want anyone but me to see you naked." He pauses, then adds, "Unless you decide you want me to fuck off after all."

Frank turns his head and nips at Gerard's earlobe. "I don't want you to fuck off. Look, I'm not gonna say it's not weird, but it's like...last night I felt like I could just follow your lead and let you take care of everything, and I still feel that way now. And I don't really want anyone else to see me naked, either."

"Good." Gerard pushes himself up and leans over Frank, setting his cigarette down in the ashtray so he can cup Frank's face in one hand. "I want to take care of you, Frankie. Not just for the moons, all the time. If you want me to."

Frank sets his own cigarette down in the ashtray and reaches up, threading his hands into Gerard's hair. "Yeah," he whispers, and then Gerard's lips are against his and Frank closes his eyes and lets go, trusting Gerard to take care of him, like he said.

When the kiss breaks, Gerard keeps holding Frank close, nuzzling him gently. "Mine," he whispers against Frank's neck, and Frank smiles into Gerard's hair as he whispers back.

"Yours."


End file.
